Vin walked along the corridor, his eyes seeing but not registering the people around him. He stopped in front of a room, hearing tiny sobs coming from inside. He looked in and saw a young boy lying alone in the room. “Are you ok, Kid? Do you want me to get the nurse?”
“No, thanks, Mister,” the child tried to stop crying, a small smile showing through the sadness still apparent on his face.
“There’s no shame in crying, Kid,” Tanner told him.
“My Mom always tells me that too,” the boy said, taking a tissue and wiping at is tears.
“Do you want to talk?”
“I...I...” he stammered. “Mom says not to talk to strangers.”
“Your Mom’s right about that.”
“But you seem ok.”
“I tell you what we’ll do. I’ll leave the door open and the lights on and that way we can both feel safe.
The young boy’s eyes sparkled with hope and Vin stepped into the room. “My name’s Vin. What’s yours?”
“Adam.”
Vin barely kept his composure as he heard the small voice say his name. Somehow he knew this was a sign. His best friend was down the hall, fighting for his life and he’d stumbled onto a crying boy with the same name as his friend’s son.
“Are you ok, Vin?”
“I’m fine, Adam.”
“You don’t look fine. Maybe you should go back to your room before you faint.”
Vin smiled as he stared at the green eyes. “I’m not staying here, Adam.”
“Who is?”
“My best friend.”
“Is he gonna die?”
“I sure hope not,” Tanner whispered.
“What’s wrong with him?”
“He’s sick.”
“Bad sick?”
“Yes,” Vin answered sadly.
“He’s gonna be ok ya know,” the boy said confidently.
Tanner glanced into the eyes once more, frowning at the familiar shade of green and the deep expressions in a child so small. “I thought I was supposed to help you,” he said.
“Mom says if you can help someone else then you’re helping yourself. He’s going to be ok. You’re gonna help him aren’t you?”
“I’m gonna do everything I can,” Tanner answered.
“Then he’ll be fine. My Mom’s gonna be here soon and I don’t want her being upset that I talked to you.”
“I’ll leave, Adam. Are you gonna be ok?”
“I’m fine now,” the boy said as he snuggled down in the bed.
Tanner moved away from the bed, “You take care of yourself, Adam,” he told him.
“You too, Vin,” the boy said, an angelic smile on his face, as the man left the room.
Buck sat next to the bed, memories replaying in his mind as he watched the steady rise and fall of his oldest friend’s chest. “You know you’ve added...” he stopped as he realized he’d said those words too many times over the years. “Ah, hell, Stud, I’ve spent many Christmas’s with you and I want to spend many more. Maybe I’m being selfish but I need to know you’ll be with us on Christmas Day and every day that follows. Hell Chris I guess what I’m trying to dance around,” he stopped as a memory hit him. “Chris, did I ever tell you about my mother. Oh I know I told you how she made a living and why but I don’t think I ever told you about the dance lessons...”
Buck sat by the tree with the women who shared the house with him and his mother. He was a bright boy at age thirteen. He knew his mother went to great extents to shelter him from her life in prostitution but he knew where she went at night. The women in the house were his extended family and they helped look after him when his mother had to see a client.
“Buck, is something wrong?”
Wilmington looked at the raven haired woman and smiled. “No, Mom, everything’s fine,” he answered honestly. The boys in his school teased him about where he lived and the fact that he didn’t have a father. His mind went back to something that happened the week before. A kid in one of the lower grades was being harassed by two bullies just because he believed in something they didn’t and Buck had gone to his aid. He’d shoved the two bullies away from the kid and the boy muttered his thanks through his split lip. Buck wondered how that kid was celebrating Christmas.
“Buck, I have one more gift for you. Something I hope you’ll enjoy as much as I did when I was your age,” his mother explained.
Buck took the small powder blue envelope and opened the flap. He took out the card and read the words before looking at his mother. “Dance lessons?”
“That’s right, Son. I’ve seen how well you dance and I wanted to give you something I knew you’d enjoy.”
“It says the lessons are for two,” Buck read aloud.
“That’s right. I thought you’d enjoy having one of the girls from your class go with you. Maybe that pretty red head. What’s her name again?”
“Cindy.”
“That’s the one.”
Buck looked at the card and then back at his mother’s warm blue eyes. “I know who I want to take, Mom,” he said.
“Who?”
“You.”
“Me?”
Buck stood in front of his mother, a smile on his face as he bowed low to the woman who’d nourished him. “Mom, would you do me the honor of being my date for the dance lessons at Mrs. Winton’s school of fine dancing?” he asked softly.
Tears filled her eyes as she stood up and wrapped her arms around her son. “The honor is all mine, Buck,” she said as the tears escaped her eyes.
“You should have seen us, Chris. The night we graduated from the class. Mom and me decided to do the two step and she looked beautiful in a pink gown with white ribbons in her hair. I thought I was the luckiest kid in the whole class. I know I had the most beautiful woman in the world as my date,” he said. “I remember when you and Sarah had Adam and you both refused to go out on New Year’s Eve because you wanted to be with him and celebrate as a family. You invited me to join you and I told you no but you both insisted because I had to cancel my plans. I remember watching the two of you dance, the love on both your faces as you only had eyes for each other. Beautiful, Chris, a wonderful, magical moment between two people who loved each other unconditionally. She’ll be waiting for you, Chris, just as we’re waiting for you now. Vin’s here so I guess I’d better let him come in,” he left the room as memories of his childhood continued to flash through his mind.
Sarah knew her time with Chris was drawing to a close and she wanted to feel him once more. She wanted to share the love that continued even after the separation she knew would happen in a few years. She’d chosen this Christmas because of the intense love they shared especially with the child who now shared their lives.
“Chris, I got something I want to read to ya but first I need you to know where it came from. You know my Ma died when I was little and I don’t have a lot of memories of her but she gave me this book of poetry and I’ve kept it with me ever since. She read it to me on Christmas Day...”
The excitement of Christmas morning was lacking in the blue eyes as the small boy fought to wake up. His first instinct was to hide under the blankets and not let anyone know he was awake. Fear was so much a part of his early life and even with the departure of his father that fear was engrained in him. His small body trembled but not from the cold. He gathered as much courage as a five year old could and slid his legs over the side of the bed. His tiny feet met the icy cold of the stark linoleum and he pulled them back up, searching for the socks he knew would be beside the bed. He found the clean black socks and pulled them on. Slowly he slid off the edge and walked into the room that doubled as kitchen and living area. He smiled at the woman sitting in front of the tiny tree. “Ma,” he said, walking towards her.
“Merry Christmas, Vinnie,” she smiled, calling him by the name she only used when they were alone.
“Merry Christmas, Ma,” his eyes twinkled as he looked into the warm eyes and loving face that could sooth his nightmares with just a glance. He felt her arms around him and returned the embrace, loving the feeling of safety in her arms.
“Santa’s been here, Vinnie. Why don’t you come sit down and see what he’s brought for you?” she asked and sat him beside her on the floor. She reached for a small gift and passed it to him, smiling as his blue eyes sparkled with childhood excitement. She watched him open the gift from Santa, tears filling her eyes as she realized how little it was compared to what other kids would find under their trees.
“Ma, look what Santa brought me,” Vin’s voice filled the small space with more joy than anything she’d ever known before. She smiled as he played with the tiny red fire engine. The friction wheels spinning on the linoleum as he pulled back and released the toy. Her heart ached that something so simple could bring such joy and she reached for the second gift she’d placed under the tree. A gift she’d earned by doing laundry for a lady on the third floor of the building across the street. “Vinnie?”
“Yes, Ma,” Vin answered, unsure of the tone behind his mother’s voice.
“I have something here for you.”
“What is it?” he asked, a tiny smile awakening on his face.
“Open it and see,” she passed him the small package and waited for him to open it.
He pulled the book from the wrapping and tried to read the name. “R...Ro...bert L...Louis St...St...”
“Stevenson,” she finished for him.
“Who is he?” Vin asked innocently.
“He writes poetry, Vinnie, not as well as you do but he’s pretty good,” she told him.
“Ah, Ma,” he grinned at her compliment, his eyes bursting with pride at his mother’s words. He opened the book and passed it to his mother. “Would you read this one to me?”
She looked at the open page and read the title. “The Land Of Nod by Robert Louis Stevenson.
From Breakfast all through the day
At home among my friends I stay,
But every night I go abroad
Afar into the land of Nod.
All by myself I have to go,
With none to tell me what to do,
All alone beside the streams,
And up the mountain-sides of dreams.
The strangest things are there for me,
Both things to eat and things to see,
And many frightening sights abroad,
Till morning in the land of Nod
Try as I like to find my way,
I never can get back by day,
Nor can remember plain and clear,
The curious music that I hear.”
“Ma?”
“Yes, Vinnie.”
“What is the land of Nod?”
“I think it’s a place where we can go to have wonderful adventures,” she answered. ‘A place where you’ll be safe from the evil that sometimes invades out lives,’ she thought, pictures of the man who’d fathered her son flashing through her mind.
“Can me and you go there?”
“Oh, Vinnie, it’s a place we can only visit in our dreams. So each night when you go to sleep dream of Nod and I will follow you there that way we can keep each other safe,” she explained, fighting back the tears as she remembered waking her son from the nightmares he suffered from.
“It’s a good place?”
“A very good place.”
Vin Tanner looked at the book and then met his mother’s warm eyes. “Then I promise to visit the land of Nod every night, Ma,” he vowed.
She hugged her son to her, relishing the sweet scent that only came from small children. “Merry Christmas, Vinnie.”
“Merry Christmas, Ma. I love you.”
“I love you too, Son...”
“Ma got sick the next year, Chris. I remember sitting with her and reading from that book. Well it wasn’t really reading it was repeating the words she’d read to me every night,” Vin opened the book and read the poem he so loved as a child. “Ma said, Nod was a very good place and it was when I was little. I wish I still had those childhood beliefs, Chris, I’d take you to the land of Nod and show you all the magical things there.” He closed the book and rubbed his eyes.
The next thirty six hours passed uneventfully with no new crisis but also no change in Chris’s condition. He didn’t suffer any more seizures but he remained in a coma, unaware of the worried and concerned men who kept a constant vigilance at his bedside. They talked to him about the plans they had for Christmas, plans that included him being there not stuck in the hospital.
Turner finished examining the pale form on the bed and picked up the chart. He made note of the fact that there were no more seizures and that Chris Larabee could be moved out of isolation and into a private room. He looked out at the haggard faces of the men waiting outside the room. He turned to the nurse and told her to make arrangements to have the patient moved later that afternoon. He opened the door and walked over to the contingent of six men.
“How is he, Doctor?” Standish asked.
“We’re getting ready to move him out of isolation...”
“Does that mean he’s getting better?” Dunne asked hopefully.
“The antibiotics are working and he hasn’t had any seizures since the one at his ranch and that’s a good sign.”
“How long before he wakes up, Doc?” Wilmington asked.
“That’s hard to say with comatose patients, Mr. Wilmington. He could wake up in an hour, a day or a week. There’s just no way of knowing. Why don’t you men go get something to eat and we’ll have Mr. Larabee in his new room by the time you come back.”
“I’ll see that they do, Doctor.”
The six men turned to see Orrin Travis walking towards them. He’d caught the tail end of the conversation and knew Chris would want him to make sure his men looked after themselves.
“Thank you, Mr. Travis,” Turner said as he walked to the nurses’ desk.
They sat in the small brightly lit restaurant across from the hospital. The waitress serving them wondered what could possibly have caused the seven handsome men to look so crestfallen on Christmas Eve. There was an air of sadness emanating from the youngest dark haired man to the oldest grey haired man who seemed to be in charge. She stood behind the counter, watching them, trying to get a read on them, something she considered herself good at. One man stood out amongst the others, his blue eyes so filled with sadness and pain and she realized there was something tearing at him. She glanced towards the hospital across the street and knew they’d come from there. ‘Who are you waiting for? Is it a friend or family or both?’ she thought as she returned to the table with the drinks they’d ordered. She’d worked in this restaurant for eight years and still tried to read peoples’ emotions. The group of men seated at the table seemed lost to her, as if they were waiting for someone to return to their midst. ‘It’s Christmas Eve, a time for miracles and maybe you’ll find whoever you’re all so worried about will have a Christmas angel protecting them,’ she thought.
She watched the silent group as they picked at the meals they ordered, neither man coming close to eating half the food on their plates. The oldest man paid the bill and they stood as one and left the warmth of the restaurant. ‘Have faith,’ she thought as she watched them walk towards the hospital, hands stuffed in their pockets to ward off the chill in the air. “Tonight is a night for miracles,” she said aloud, smiling as the star on the tree in the corner twinkled brightly.
“Sarah.”
“What is it, Chris?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Sarah looked at the clock and saw the time was a little after midnight and that Christmas Eve was now Christmas Day and she wrapped her arms around her husband, knowing he’d be leaving her and Adam very shortly. She fought back the tears she wanted to shed and wrapped him tightly in her arms. “Merry Christmas, Christopher Larabee,” she whispered as she lifted her face to his. ‘I love you so much,’ she thought.
“I have something for you,” he whispered softly.
She watched as he reached under his pillow and pulled out a long gold box wrapped with a white ribbon and bow. “Don’t I have to wait till morning?” she asked sweetly.
“Not for this one,” he answered, watching as her long delicate fingers pulled on the ribbon, releasing the bow from the box. ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he thought as her eyes lit up at the treasure contained within the box.
“Oh, Chris,” she gasped, pulling the delicate chain from the box.
“It belonged to my grandmother,” he explained.
“It’s beautiful,” she told him, opening the finely detailed locket. She gasped at the picture inside, the picture of her holding Adam taken the day of his christening. Soft sobs shook her body as she realized this was the locket he’d be holding in the funeral home on the day they said their mortal goodbyes.
“Sarah, what’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, holding her in a tight embrace.
“N...nothing, Chris. I’m just happy,” she answered. “Would you put this on for me?”
He took the delicate chain in his hands and placed it around her neck, nuzzling her throat as he finished. He turned her towards him and looked into her shining, tear filled eyes. “I love you,” he said, his eyes sliding closed as he fell back against the pillow.
“I love you too, Chris,” she told him, knowing her time was nearly up. “I won’t say goodbye, Chris because Adam and I will be waiting for you,” she lay down beside him, knowing he’d soon be retuning to his life with his new family, a family who’d look after him until he was reunited with her and Adam.
The room was quiet, except for the whispering sounds of breathing coming from the six men. Chris Larabee lay still and silent as his friends watched over him. It was a little after midnight and officially Christmas Day. A day ripe for miracles and the six men prayed they’d be on the receiving end of one today.
“Do you guys remember the first Christmas after Chris formed this team?” Dunne asked.
Josiah smiled as the memory of that special day seeped into his bones and dispensed the chill that resided there since the day Chris Larabee had succumbed to the illness he now fought. “The look on his face when we showed up with the tree...”
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